No Picnic
by girl with to much time
Summary: Helen was looking fowards to spending summer with her mom in Tulsa. What she wasn't looking fowards to? Getting closer to her Cousin Sylvia, getting drunk, and meeting Tim Shepard. not that she minded that much...RxR


I let the wind from the open window whip my hair around, a small price o pay for relief from the heat. It was barley noon, and I had already gone through four water bottles and shed every layer but my tee-shirt; I would have removed that to, but I don't think my brother would really appreciate me sitting around in his car topples. Sweat was making my legs stick to the brown leather of the passenger seat, making disturbing noises whenever I shifted to expose some other part of my face to the open air. Why had my brother thought it more urgent to fix the cars radio then air conditioner? God only knows.

"Pass me some water, Len" my brother said, beads of sweat dripping down his face. I would think it was gross, if I didn't look the same.

"No way, you're driving" I knew it was torture to be in this heat with no hydration, but it was better then being a bloody pulp with you're car pretzeld around a tree.

"Want me to pull over again, it would take us longer to get there..."

"Oh shut" I muttered, before reaching into the back seat and grabbing him a bottle. Not that I was eager to get to Tulsa, but I sure as hell didn't want to spend any more time in this car. I guess to say I was totally depressed about heading to Tulsa would be a lie; I wanted to see Ma really badly, it had been a year of letters and long-distance phone calls for us since the divorce, and if seeing her meant a summer in Tulsa, that's a sacrifice I would make. I think Mike was less enthusiastic, he had never been that close to Ma, and I don't think he would have come if I hadn't needed a ride.

"What are you so deep in though about, Len?" he asked. Len; my nickname since I was five. Mike didn't used to be able to pronounce 'H', so he started calling me Ellen. At the time, Ellen McCurdy was the biggest bully in the kindergarten, and I demanded another name. We had first considered 'Hell', but Ma put a stop to that; so Len it was.

"Oh nothing" I told him, looking out the window at the passing cars.

"You've been thinking bout a whole lotta nothin' lately" he said, taking his eyes of the road to glance at me

"I'm just exited, that's all" he nodded, before beginning to grumble on how I shouldn't be; Tulsa was as boring as it got. Then again, our town it Texas wasn't much either. The most exiting thing that happened in Grapetown was the time when Billy Pick brought a gun to school and got it taken away. And that was three tears ago.

"Well, just a word of caution" Mike said, finally at an audible tone, "Tulsa is no picnic, but Ma's brownies sure are"

–

when I got out of the car in the evening, the afternoons sweat was nothing but a sticky, thin layer of extra skin and a nuisance to my hairline. I peeled my shirt of my stomach, letting cold air make contact with my skin. Mike got are suitcases, they barley seemed to bug him. I felt butterfly's in my stomach as I walked up to the door and knocked once, before my mother swung it open and pulled me into a hug.

"I was waiting by the window" she admitted, after we had broken apart. She went to hug Mike; he seemed slightly reluctant, but let her hug him anyway. I stepped into the house; nothing more then I was used to; some generic furniture and family pictures. The smell of brownies and chicken mixed together in the kitchen, and floated to me.

"would you two rather share the spare room? If not one of you could take the couch..." Ma was saying, pining loose lock of hair behind her ear. I had always envied Ma's red hair to mien.

"I'll take the couch" Mike said, sitting down.

"Great" she turned to me, "I'll show you you're room" I grabbed my suitcase- which was a little on the heavy side- and followed her, exited. This would be my room for the summer.

"Now, I suggest you don't close you're door all the way" Ma was saying, "The lock is tricky, and I haven't been able to get someone in..." she paused in front of a white door; the paint was chipped and it was stained with something brown, but I didn't comment.

The room wasn't much better; a wooded bed was in one corner, and a cupboard in the next. The carpet was a weird shade of off-white, like it hadn't been intended that way. The only color in the room came from a painting on the wall, I recognized it as a work of mien from last year; not the best- he shading and proportioning was off- but not my worst, either. It was of some tree I thought had been incredibly inspiring at the time; it was really just a tree.

"I'll call you at dinner time" Ma said, before leaving to help Mike. Not that he would like that.

I sighed; so, this was my home for the time being. Not to bad, but in Mike's Words; no picnic.


End file.
